Guarding Ginny Weasley
by purplecloak9
Summary: AU. Two Aurors storm into the Burrow and tell Ginny she's been trusting the wrong man. To both protect a member of a traditionally Light family and smash a rising of Dark wizards, Harry Potter is given a new assignment.
1. Light A Candle

Ginny Weasley opened the back door of the Burrow, her family's comfortable dwelling, and stepped back, motioning for the young man behind her to follow. She cleared the doorway and reached for his hand, smiling at the warmness of it in hers. Once they had cleared the garden wall, and consequently into the area in which he could Apparate away, he stopped walking and pulled her against his body, kissing her solidly on the lips.

_His lips must have some addicting property,_ she thought wildly, as her hands almost immediately buried themselves in his white blond hair, trying to get as close to him as possible. Ginny was no slag, but sometimes she doubted her own strength in resisting him for much longer. He was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen – well, save the pictures of Harry Potter she'd saved from newspaper articles back when she was fourteen.

"Do you think they liked me?" he asked, pulling away from her. His eyes were a dull grey, which matched his at times aloof personality.

She smiled up at him. "Mum was very taken with your manners. '_My compliments to the chef!'_" she mimicked in a low voice. She grinned into the kiss he gave her after that, and for a few minutes neither spoke.

"And your father? Your brothers?"

That question was a little harder to answer. All true Gryffindors, her brothers were very suspicious of him, having been taught at Durmstrang Academy, which was rumored to teach more than just Defense Against the Dark Arts. That, coupled with the inherent drive to hate any male who showed more than a platonic desire for Ginny's company, meant that her brothers would not be easy to win over.

Her father was a different story altogether. He was not outright against his nineteen-year-old daughter dating, but she had watched Arthur's eyes watching intently as her date had (inconspicuously, he thought) run his fingers across her arms, down her neck as he whispered something in her ear, making her shiver. Those actions weren't going to endear him to any father.

"I think they'll warm up to you," she assured him. "The boys are always hardest to convince. I'm still five to them."

A wand light interrupted their privacy, and Ginny could just make out Bill's dangling earring as he watched them unashamedly.

Resting her forehead against his chin, she said, "I'd better get inside. Bill knows some pretty nasty curses."

He laughed and wrapped her in a sweet, but short, hug. "I need to get home as well. Mum hasn't been doing so well since Father's death."

She nodded, aware that his father had died just over two years before. Her health was declining, but she was adamant that she could still run a household as well as she ever could. Ginny hoped she could be as strong one day.

They said their goodbyes, and she waited outside until a faint 'pop' announced his departure.

Hearing the sound of the Apparition, Bill had gone back inside. Ginny sighed at the house and couldn't bring herself to go inside just yet. Tonight had been a huge night for her. In her life she had never been interested in boys beyond a few passing fancies, but her current romance had changed her almost from the moment it had begun.

She was an impulsive person in all aspects of her life, except for in regards to the opposite sex. It had never occurred to her to be forward with boys, and later men, and it was almost as though there were something more important waiting on the other side of the hill. She felt, innately, that her future husband was waiting for her, and that she would know it when she met it. And then she met _him._

They'd met at a celebratory party for the Holyhead Harpies, for which she played Chaser. Ginny had been named Most Valuable Player for leading the League in scoring. He asked her to dance – which irked her just-a-friend date Dean Thomas – and to her surprise she had immediately acquiesced. It was a connection she could explain to no one, not even her own mother. But it felt right all the same.

Ginny Weasley was madly in love with Draco Malfoy.

It was her first time to say those words to a man, and thankfully he felt exactly the same way. They had been seriously dating for only a month, but somehow she knew it was exactly the right time to bring him home to meet the family.

For the briefest of moments, she let the little girl inside of her take over, and imagined what it would be like to have dinner with Draco every night for the rest of her life. What would it be like to be married to a man like him?

She shook herself from these strangely intense thoughts, and rose from her sitting position on the grass, and slowly made her way to the house. She wasn't half way there when a black figure from the side and gripped her tightly around the waist. She struggled, throwing her elbow into his – she had discerned it was indeed a man from his broad shoulders – chest and tried her hardest to kick his knee hard enough to dislocate it.

Her fight was one-sided, and doomed, because the figure didn't even pause his stride toward the house through her antics.

Inside the house, her entire family was gathered in the living room, another man standing protectively by the front door, arms loose at his sides, wand held tightly in his hand. The man was tall, but not quite as lanky as Ginny's youngest brother, Ron. He had medium brown hair, and looked to be in his early forties. Perhaps the most distinguishing features on his face were the thin, ragged scars ranging from his forehead to his chin, in rather disorderly patterns.

The man nodded in Ginny's direction, and the man holding her moved forward, finally dumping her unceremoniously on the couch next to her mother.

He pulled back his hood, and Ginny was instantly mesmerized. The man standing in her living room was Harry Potter. Just like in the pictures he had shaggy black hair and the most magnificent emerald green eyes. Unfortunately, the pictures were also not fabricating the severe look in those eyes, and he did not soften as he surveyed the room.

"Remus?" he said, eyes scanning the faces of Ginny's family. "Shall I do the charms?"

The older man hesitated. "Yes, go ahead. We can't say anything else until we're sure."

It took several minutes for Harry Potter to finish waving his wand in complex patterns, muttering different spells under his breath. Eventually, the door and all the windows in the room glowed a bright blue. Ginny watched Bill's eyes widen, so she surmised they were privacy wards strong enough to impress a Curse Breaker.

"It's done," Harry said. "He put up a few flimsy auditory charms around the kitchen, I'm guessing to see if they were buying his act or not. It'll be simple to fabricate a few random conversations to play. What I can't understand is why he would put one there…" he mumbled to himself as an afterthought. Then, quite suddenly, his eyes widened, focused on Ginny, and he blushed.

Remus raised an eyebrow at his partner. "Where was the second monitoring charm placed?"

"The bedroom closest to the ground floor."

Ginny wasn't sure exactly who they were talking about – but whoever it was had been watching her in her bedroom at night. She flushed too, but with anger at her privacy being invaded.

"May I ask you gentlemen what you're doing in my house?" said Mr. Weasley finally. He stood up, rubbing his balding head tiredly. "It's quite late, and if you have no business here other than to check the quality of our wards…"

Remus stepped forward and held out his hand for Arthur to shake. "Mr. Weasley, I'm Remus Lupin, a part of a special division of Aurors who investigate suspected Dark activity in Britain."

Arthur took his hand cautiously. "And may I ask why you're here? No one in this family has _ever_ been accused of going dark."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley," said Harry, taking over. "And that is precisely the problem. You are certainly aware that you were no friend of the dark, and as a result, you have become a part of an operation the Ministry is very nervous about."

"This is obviously focused on my daughter; can you tell me what exactly is going on?" Mr. Weasley was pale; his eyes searching the room for invisible monitoring charms."

Harry looked to Remus, who nodded, and cleared his throat. "Your daughter's boyfriend isn't who you think he is, sir."

At this, Ginny stood straight up. "I'll thank you not to come into this house making unfounded accusations," she said crossly. "Draco is my boyfriend, and I trust him completely. I'm sure you can have absolutely _no_ evidence to prove he is involved in any wrong-doing, or that he's been spying on us!"

"Ginny," he father said in a warning tone. It was rare for him to take charge of a situation, and Ginny involuntarily sat herself back down. Her father was worried if he was handling the situation. Ginny's eyes wandered to her mother, who was watching with an anxious look on her face.

"I know this probably comes as quite the shock," said Lupin smoothly. "But trust us when we say that your family's safety is our top priority. I know we haven't met personally, Mr. Weasley, but I can tell you I have long since admired your work at the Ministry."

Mr. Weasley sat on the couch next to his wife, looking at the two Aurors expectantly. "What will the security measures be? Can we still receive post?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at the man's willingness to cooperate, but brushed past it. "Sir, your family will continue on in as normal a way as possible. You are only in danger if Mr. Malfoy becomes aware you suspect him."

"Can I ask what he is involved in?"

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry, sir. You could apply to the Auror Department with Kingsley Shacklebolt, but even then you would be magically bound to secrecy; you wouldn't be able to tell your family."

"So we won't be…limited?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"No, ma'am," Remus answered. "We do, however, have a proviso."

"A condition?"

Remus looked to Harry. "We told you we don't think there's much danger unless Malfoy becomes attuned to your suspicions. As that is a real possibility, we would like Mr. Potter here to be stationed here, as your family's – or more specifically your daughter's – personal guard."

Mr. Weasley was finally beginning to understand the magnitude of the situation the family was in. "Certainly there can be no call for that…"

"I don't _need_ protection from my boyfriend," said Ginny, though her voice was a little less sure than before.

"I'll set up wards myself," Bill said finally, the rest of the brothers nodding behind him. "I don't see a reason for this; my brothers and I are more than willing to look after Ginny. If Malfoy tried anything…"

Mr. Weasley had thrown him a look that quite clearly said 'shut up', and Bill's mouth closed with an audible snap.

Remus opened his mouth, but Harry cut him off. "Miss Weasley, we're asking for your full cooperation. That isn't to say we need it. If you can't give me permission to set up shop here, I have no problem going to the Shacklebolt and having him send you an executive order."

"You won't be very comfortable here," Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to be here to be comfortable, ma'am. I will be on the job twenty-four hours a day, six days a week. Of course, those days will have to be completely random."

"I suppose I can make up Bill's old room…" Mrs. Weasley continued as though he hadn't spoken.

Remus hesitated, but said firmly, "Harry will have to be with Miss Weasley twenty-four hours a day, even if he has to be disillusioned. This will obviously include his presence in her bedroom at night, when she is at her most vulnerable. I hope it will comfort you to know that your daughter will be receiving the best protection available."

"It's settled then," Arthur said, reaching forward to again shake both men's hands. "I thank you for coming. When exactly will you be coming to stay, Mr. Potter?"

Harry's green eyes were solemn. "I have some affairs to get in order, but I will be by early tomorrow morning. Expect me at least two hours before breakfast."

OoOoO

A/N: This is an idea I had, which won't involve much; anywhere from 6-8 chapters, much like It's A Setup!.


	2. Urinalysis

_**A/N: Thanks to all reviewers for the kind comments on the last chapter. I hadn't thought much about this story, but I guess we'll see how it goes and I'll decide later on if I want it to be something more than a short story. This chapter is for Phx. Tears for making me really, really want to do Harry's pov. **_

Harry Potter, feeling marginally foolish, stood at attention in the darkened room of Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley. It was two-fifteen Sunday morning, and Ginny was finally asleep – thank Merlin. She had, for almost three hours, tossed and turned and sighed loudly at Harry, even making a snide remark or two.

The mother, Mrs. Weasley, was, if possible, worse. Harry supposed that the shock had worn off during the day he was gathering his things from his and Cho's flat (which he guessed was really just hers at the moment) and storing in his shrinkable, seven compartment trunk. When he returned to their home the next morning, she had been very quick to tell him exactly where he was to be staying.

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but I simply cannot allow you to stay in my daughter's bedroom at night. People would talk!"_

Harry snorted into the darkness of the bedroom. As though he were some sort of rogue, threatening their precious daughter's innocence. Luckily her husband had come to his defense, though it was easy to discern the man had his own reservations about the arrangement.

Harry had questions he needed to ask Ginny in private, and that was of the utmost importance. He couldn't risk talking with her in front of her brothers or parents, because inaccurate answers could very well mean her death. She had been highly uncooperative so far, and that meant – since he didn't know the conditions of her involvement – that he couldn't rest at present. If he was found asleep by one of Malfoy's henchmen…

Well, he was hoping to avoid getting caught unawares.

It had been a long time since school, a long time since Voldemort, and a long time since he'd begun his Auror training and finally his duty. The investigation into Malfoy wasn't going anywhere, but he was hoping that this girl could bring him and Remus a step closer to finishing their mission. Remus was his idol, a friend of his long deceased parents, but the man still held a certain quality that did not make for a spectacular Auror. It wasn't naïveté because a werewolf could never be accused of that, but a certain innocence in his character made him incapable of manipulation.

Harry wasn't beyond those techniques.

True, the safety of Arthur Weasley's daughter was important to the Ministry and his department, therefore important to him. But though he, Harry, could understand and juggle both the girl's safety and using her to place tracking and listening charms on Malfoy, Remus felt that it was dishonest to do it without the girl's express consent.

Harry had no illusions about the kindness of Malfoy. The only way the country and the girl would be safe would be if he was safely locked in Azkaban. It wasn't as secure without the Dementors, but it was better than having the racist out on the streets; terrorizing Muggles and the Magical community alike.

Malfoy may have a clean record, but it took many thousands of galleons for it to be so. He was currently listed as a suspect on a long list of crimes – but Remus and Harry were the only ones actively pursuing him on a case. Most in the Auror department thought he was an ex-hero, who was as paranoid and off-balance as Mad Eye Moody.

On the bright side, their opinions didn't make much difference in his life, or his work.

The steady breathing of Ginny Weasley was the only sound in the room, so it was natural that he was aware almost immediately when she awoke. He glanced down at his watch, emitting a faint light that was charmed so that only he could see it, and was a little startled to find out it was a quarter after five o'clock.

Grumbling quietly to herself, Ginny sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Evidently, in her drowsiness, she had quite forgotten Harry was in the room, and ran smack into his back. She stumbled and fell when she met with his solid physique, and was thrown unceremoniously onto the floor; t-shirt riding up and her knickers exposed.

Harry allowed himself half a second to be a regular, twenty-year-old male, and then was back in Auror mode. He smirked as he offered her a hand up.

"Funny," she snapped, ignoring his hand and heading for the bedroom door. "I thought you were here to keep me from getting hurt, not causing accidents. Do me a favor – clear all doors from now on, you great oaf."

"I live to serve, Madam."

Harry Potter was seriously getting on her nerves.

It was bad enough that for her entire life she had six incredibly obnoxious, overprotective brothers to coddle her when convenient, but now she had her own personal body guard. Harry was tall, broad shouldered, with beautiful green eyes and a gorgeous head of hair, but he was as uptight as anyone she'd ever met.

His promise to remain disillusioned as often as possible was total shit – he'd given her a smug smile on Saturday morning when he insisted on accompanying her to Quidditch practice, but then refused to become invisible. She thought his cover would be blown, but it hadn't stopped him from sitting stiffly in the stands for three and a half hours. Of course, all her teammates were annoyingly smitten with Harry, while he studiously ignored them, instead using his time to watch the area around the stadium for some supposed danger – as though Draco and his 'minions' were going to jump out of no where and torch the Quidditch pitch.

She wasn't sure where she stood with Draco, but she felt herself hesitating when she received an owl from him during dinner the first night after Harry's arrival.

Her mother, for the first time since Ginny could remember, allowed her to get post during the meal. She was just tearing apart the seal, when a hand swooped in from behind and snatched the letter from her hands.

She turned, fuming, to find Harry running diagnostic spells over the parchment. It glowed bright pink for the briefest of seconds. Harry muttered one last spell over the letter and promptly handed it back to her.

Her father looked highly alarmed. "Was there something on it?"

"Nothing serious," Harry replied, his lips twitching. "A simple attraction potion sprayed on the back. It doesn't create love or lust, really, but it should have made her more eager to see him."

Mrs. Weasley's face turned very pale. "Do…do you think he's used others on her? More powerful potions?"

Harry gave Ginny an infuriatingly calm smile. "Miss Ginevra has been a little uncooperative, ma'am. I wasn't sure we would be allowed to take a test sample of her urine."

"You're damn right I won't let you!" she snarled. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"No you haven't," said Arthur. "But Ginny, this is very important. We need to know how badly Malfoy wants into this family. Someone with a knowledge of Legilimency should check her for blocks…" he finished in a haunted voice.

Ginny knew what a repressed memory meant. It meant she may have learned something, or Merlin forbid Draco had done something violent and then _Obliviated_ her. It was a frightening possibility.

"I know Legilimency," said Harry. "I'm proficient."

Too frightened to give argument, Ginny nodded.

"Read the letter," he suggested. Again she nodded, fighting the urge to vomit.

_Dearest Ginevra, _

_I haven't spoken to you in ages, my love, and I'm starting to worry. You do remember the Ministry ball next week, don't you? If you have yet to pick up dress robes go to Madam Malkins' in Diagon Alley. Have her put the outfit on my tab, and I'll square it away with her later. You look absolutely ravishing in anything, but how about something in green?_

_All my love,_

_Draco_

"I'm going to bed," she announced in a small voice.

"Me too," Harry said, in what she guessed was an attempt at a joke.


	3. Floorplan

"Now," Harry said, flicking his wand in the direction of her bedroom door, "You are going to have to answer some questions for me, Miss Weasley."

Her face reddened, and she crossed her arms over her chest petulantly.

She could tell by the way his eyes darkened that she had made him very angry, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not when it was possible her body had been _violated_ by a man she trusted and then her mind similarly raped by a memory charm. The shock having worn off just a bit, she could now see the man standing in front of her as pushy, brooding, and an all-around pain in the arse. She wasn't going to cooperate just yet.

"You agreed to Legilimency, what's wrong with answering a few routine questions?" At her continued silence, he persisted. "I could have done this in front of your entire family, would you have preferred that?"

She scowled. "Threatening me won't help you," she snapped, grabbing her pajamas from the top of the wardrobe, and walked to the locked door. "Let me out, _please._"

He moved over to her, which wasn't a feat in the cramped room, his face hovering over her ear. "I'm trying to protect you, Weasley, but don't try my patience. I am a very dangerous man."

"So I should be afraid of my guard? Who's the bad guy?"

"There are things you don't know," he said in a frustrated voice, ruffling his hair with his hand. "And I can't get you clearance for anything – you're just going to have to trust that I know more than you do and am looking out for your best interests."

She sighed. "You have questions?"

"Many."

Recognizing her own defeat, she decided to be the bigger person, just this once. "If you'll let me clean up, I'll tell you anything you want to know."

He raised an eyebrow, but flicked his wand again, removing the Auror strength locking charm and slinking off to stand facing the window.

Her shower wasn't as refreshing as she'd hoped; instead her skin turned red and raw with the combination of hot water and the effort she was putting into scrubbing her body clean. She felt like every moment of the last month had been exposed. It wasn't her life, not if someone else was watching it.

But she _knew_ the person watching her, if she ever really had known him, and that made it worse.

She thought of Draco, his blonde hair, slender build, dashing smile. Those grey eyes, which she had believed to hold desire – love – for her in their depths, were filled with greed, and, yes, lust, but not for her. No, his desire was for power and destruction only.

_How was I so stupid?_

She stepped out of the tub, performed cursory drying charms on her body and hair, tying it in a knot at the base of her neck with a simple charm, and finally, when she'd run out of other things to do, looked herself in the mirror.

She cringed at the initial inspection. Her usually bright, healthily flushed skin was sallow and dark bags had begun to form under her eyes. There was a crinkle in her brow that wouldn't disappear, no matter how she tried to relax her face.

_What if Harry and Remus hadn't found out?_ Where would she be in another couple of months? Dead? A trophy wife to a cold-hearted Death Eater? She shuddered to think about how controlling and scary the relationship with Draco could have gone if she had kept walking – or sprinting, depending on your point of view – on the road of ignorance. She must be important to the plan for him to keep up a charade rather than simply torture the information out of her.

Shivering, she dressed in the Gryffindor maroon tank top and flannel pants. She set her jaw, refusing to look back in the mirror, and left the loo.

He was standing in the same spot as when she left. He turned, redid the charms on the door, this time adding a privacy spell to the window and a silencing charm on the door. He gestured to the chair tucked under her desk. "May I sit down?"

She nodded, and then took a seat on her bed, wrapping herself in the blankets. It was blessed relief to be back in her safe bed, this time without the recording spells.

"How long have you been seeing Draco Malfoy?" he asked in a formal tone.

She narrowed her eyes. "Are you recording this?"

"Don't answer my question with another question."

Fuming, she steeled herself against his intimidation. "I'm not answering anything if this is recorded. I've had enough of being watched and overheard."

He took a deep, furious breath, and waved his wand again. "You've had a shock tonight, Weasley, don't think you'd get away with this cheek otherwise."

"Oh that's rich!" she said derisively. "What would you do, give me detention? Mr. Potter, I'm not the criminal here, Draco Malfoy is. I assure you, as shaken as I am, I will not respond to your threats."

She watched him struggle to gain control of himself. "Fine. How long did you date Malfoy?"

"One month."

"What did he tell you about his family life, his upbringing?"

She thought about it. "He still lives with his mother in the family mansion. His family is very well off, and his mother needs even more support since the death of his father two years ago. He went to Durmstrang and then moved back to England. He doesn't work, but his family donates a lot of money to the Ministry."

She frowned at his angry look. "Is there something wrong?"

He didn't acknowledge her query. "Has Malfoy ever Apparated into your bedroom?"

"No."

"In restaurants, have you ever left him alone with anything you were eating or drinking?"

She hesitated, then, "Yes."

"Does he send frequent owls?"

"Yes."

"Have you noticed any cologne he wears that particularly attracts you?"

"No."

"Does he wear a dry lips potion?"

"No…"

"Have you ever suspected he was wearing something to attract you?"

"Na—" _Wait! 'His lips must have some addicting property'?_ "Yes, actually. Just the night before you came I thought about it briefly, but not seriously. I was just…"

"I see," he said cryptically. "Have the two of you been intimate?"

"Wha – That is none of your business!" She could feel her face turning red.

"This is why I asked for this discussion in private, Miss Weasley. I need honest answers."

She did not want to discuss her virginity with a man she hardly knew, who happened to be spending all his nights in her dark bedroom. "No, we didn't. He wanted to – _I_ wanted to – but I told him I wanted to wait…you know…for marriage."

He fixed her with a piercing stare. "Did you ever feel like you were waning in that desire? Did you ever feel like maybe your virtue wasn't very important?"

As a matter of fact she had. "Yeah... These last few days he was getting to me." She felt her cheeks darken.

"Would you consent to a urinalysis?"

She nodded her ascent.

"And you agreed to my using Legilimency to check your mind for Obliviations?"

Another nod.

"I'll be away tomorrow to sleep, but I'd appreciate it if you would Apparate to the Ministry and submit yourself to the Auror department for the screening."

"I'll go in the morning," she said, feeling very tired.

"Miss Weasley – "

She gave him a tentative smile. "Call me Ginny, alright? I can't deal with too many formalities. I am a Weasley after all."

His expression was unreadable, but he nodded. "Ginny, I know we've gotten off on the wrong foot, but I'll sort this mess out. I hope you know that."

She laughed quietly. "Of course, you're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

"Yeah…"

"Speaking of – I don't buy your story about not being able to tell me anything. Would they sack a celebrity because he told someone a few details about a case she was most intimately involved in?"

He didn't answer right away, taking his position next to her bedroom door – back to the wall facing the window. "I'll talk to my partner, Remus, and see what he says, but there are no guarantees I'll be able to tell you anything. If I did so now, you'd probably end up Obliviated."

"Thanks for the words of comfort," she said wryly.

"My job isn't to comfort you."


	4. Crying

The tight squeeze of Apparition, which Harry thought he might never get used to, consumed him just a second before he appeared right in front of his flat door. As a rule, no one, not even himself or Cho, could Apparate directly into the apartment. It was for security reasons, but it still irked Cho to no end. He didn't understand why it was such a hardship to open a door, but there were a lot of things he didn't understand about women. And there were a lot of things he didn't understand about Cho.

He slipped inside, body fighting with all its strength to remain upright. It had been close to forty-eight hours since his nest of black hair had met a pillow and he was starting to feel the effects.

Inside the flat was cool and quiet. Remus had come early to relieve Harry at two o'clock that morning, a gift he had never been more grateful for. Harry didn't have many people in his life; Remus was his only true friend, though there was Cho, and it was nice to be able to lean on someone.

He walked past the kitchen, strode through the hallway, and finally, into his bedroom.

Cho was there, curled up on her side of the bed, a pillow under her head, a hand underneath her cheek. Asleep she was the beautiful girl he'd met when he was eleven-years-old, a precocious twelve-year-old with beautiful black eyes and hair, and soft white skin.

When she was asleep.

Awake he didn't quite know what to make of her.

He shrugged out of his robes and slipped his belt off. Once he was clad in only his boxer shorts, he climbed into his side of the bed, laying flat on his back, hands folded under his head. He was just drifting off to sleep when he felt Cho's body begin to respond to his presence. She curled up around him; her legs entwining with his, one arm snaked around his waist.

He smiled vaguely, already on his way into an exhaustion induced slumber.

# # #

He awoke sometime later, still wrapped up in his girlfriend's embrace. He had been having the most wonderful dream – a rarity for him. He couldn't remember what had happened in the dream, only that he was very happy during.

Cho always woke before him; unless he was having trouble with nightmares. They hadn't happened as much since they'd moved in together two years ago, and now he often slept through the night. If he did sleep the whole night, he would always wake to find Cho's black eyes watching him.

This morning was no exception.

Her black eyes were trained on his, and she rose up on her elbow, leaning over him.

"Morning, love," she whispered against his lips. "When did you get in?"

He smiled. "About two-thirty this morning. Remus came in to relieve me early."

"How did Tonks feel about that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. Tonks was Remus' wife; another brilliant Auror. She was also seven months pregnant and on maternity leave. Harry had loved her like an older sister since they'd met when he was fifteen. She had been one of his only friends growing up, but she wasn't as close to Cho as he wanted. Tonks always left something unsaid when she and Harry discussed his relationship with Cho, but she claimed it was none of her business.

"She understands long shifts without sleep," he said finally. "Actually I'm one of the reasons she knows about them."

"None of that was your fault, Harry. You were just a kid, a fifteen year old kid," she spoke softly, but there was a sharpness to her voice that made him vaguely irritated. Sometimes he wanted to take the blame for things – and he hated it when she just brushed his guilt aside; never speaking to him about it.

She pulled away eventually, throwing the covers back to reveal her lean body draped in a soft blue nightgown. It involved little fabric and little imagination, but Cho said she felt more comfortable wearing light clothes year around.

"Bacon and eggs?" she asked. "I'll even set the table." She bent down, searching under the bed for her slippers.

He smiled, but shook his head. "Sorry, I've got to go into the office this morning to do some quick paperwork, and then I'm back on active duty."

She frowned. "I don't see why you and Remus can't split the hours evenly. You two could work out a schedule."

"This is an important case, Cho. The Weasley family sacrificed a lot in service to our Ministry and I won't let one of them be sucked in to Draco Malfoy and his wannabe Death Eater gang. She could be killed." He pulled on his trousers, frustrated.

"So now Ginny Weasley is the top priority in this home?" she asked testily, trapping her hair in a knot at the back of her head with her wand. "I'm sorry that I can't understand why my fiancé decides to spend his every waking hour with another woman!"

With that, she stormed off into the kitchen.

Harry, however, was not finished with the discussion. He followed her out of the bedroom. "I didn't choose this assignment to piss you off! I chose it because I'm the best person for the job, because Remus is looking after Tonks, and because that slime-ball Malfoy is trying to take advantage of a young girl!

"And I'm not your fiancé," he finished under his breath, regretting it the minute the words left his mouth.

Cho looked livid. She wasn't usually this quick to anger; she was a quiet, sweet girl, but the last few months had been troubling for both of them. It wasn't so much that they were arguing more – arguing for them occurred quite often, it was a playful sort of thing – but that it seemed like her desires would not ever match with his goals.

She wanted to get married. He couldn't fault her for wanting it, hell, some days he looked at her and wished she had his ring on her finger.

But that was precisely the problem. No matter how many days he wished for her to be his wife, there were inevitably more days when he felt he wasn't at all ready. He often wondered how he was going to handle her thousands of tiny make up bottles and compacts strewn around the bathroom sink. He wondered how long he could take the incessant giggles whenever he was having trouble with researching a Ministry case. He didn't think he could handle the way she was constantly dismissing his ideas about anything without truly considering them.

Harry loved Cho, but he wasn't sure he loved her enough or the right way to be married to her.

Perhaps they'd been together too long. They'd been friends since his first year, and been dating since the Yule Ball his fourth year. It was a relationship he had been anxious to begin, but had never really seen lasting almost ten years.

"So now it comes out," she said in a voice so calm that it chilled him to the bone. "This is about you not wanting to marry me. Well, I suppose I can relieve your burden. Take your things and leave.

"And don't come back."

# # #

Ginny Weasley's life was _not_ working out.

As she trudged up the street in Muggle London, she thought about her to-do list for the day.

_Submit myself for a pee test._

_At the request of my bodyguard._

_Who is protecting me from my boyfriend._

_Who may or may not be trying to kill me and my entire family._

_Pick up a set of robes picked out for me by said boyfriend._

_Meet up with sulky bodyguard._

_Let said bodyguard poke around in my mind._

_Wash, Rinse, Repeat._

She wasn't looking forward to doing anything; in fact her bed seemed like an inviting alternative. She didn't even want to play Quidditch, which was lucky because she was on temporary 'sick' leave until she and Mr. H. Potter could work up a routine suitable for her, the team, and her security.

She stepped into the phone booth, got her name tag which read _Ginevra Weasley, General Screening_, and began searching the corridors of the Ministry for the Auror department. Of course she'd been to the Ministry loads of times; to visit her father at the Improper Artifacts office, and then a couple of times to Magical Games and Sports while she was being recruited to teams fresh out of Hogwarts.

She had yet to journey into Auror territory.

Eventually she made her way there; it was out of the way of most of the other offices. She passed a training facility on the way to the main office, and through the corridor were rooms devoted solely to Aurors. There was a gym, an indoor track and pool, a library, and a sparring room with bare white walls.

She entered the reception area, where a brunette witch pointed her to another room where the resident medi-witch ushered Ginny into the loo off the hall with a plastic cup in her hands.

It was a thoroughly uncomfortable process, but luckily Ginny didn't have to stick around for the results; Harry would get them and hopefully communicate them to her. Unfortunately for Ginny, Harry didn't seem much like the communicative type. He had shown that more than enough times in the few days of their acquaintance.

She received directions to Harry's office where she was supposed to submit to the Legilimency Harry had planned.

Taking a deep breath, she paused at the slightly ajar office door when she heard voices.

"She threw me out, Remus," Harry was saying in a miserable voice.

"You haven't been around much," Remus replied in a sympathetic tone. "But she had no right to toss you out; you pay for half of that place too."

"It isn't the flat… Cho just doesn't understand. She was accusing me of cheating on her with Ginevra Weasley of all people!"

Despite her distaste for the tall and handsome Auror, Ginny couldn't help but feel stung at his obvious indifference to her. She caught herself looking down at her body, wondering what exactly was his problem with the way she looked. _Or maybe it isn't even your body; maybe his problem is with your candor?_

Ginny frowned at herself and, not wanting to hear more about Mr. Potter's love life, she knocked on the office door.


	5. No One Knows

A/N: This chapter is a little heavy on the Harry side. What can I say? I love exploring this new personality of his. I hope everyone is enjoying this as much as I am.

When Ginny Weasley walked into his office, Harry straightened, standing abruptly in the middle of a rather personal conversation with his closest friend. Remus raised an eyebrow at him, a signal Harry didn't really understand. Ginny stood in the doorway, looking the picture of uneasiness, her auburn hair twirled around one pale finger.

"Well, Harry, I hope I've been able to shed some insight into the matter," Remus said stiffly, perhaps picking up on Harry's discomfort. "I actually have an appointment at the Healer with Tonks in-" he checked his watch – "twelve minutes. And I'm sure Tonks will be just _thrilled_ to speak with you later this evening."

Harry felt his eyebrow twitch. Of course, _Nymphadora _would be excited to say 'I told you so'.

"I'll floo her later," he promised.

Remus nodded to Ginny and walked out of the office door.

"I had some errands to run," Ginny said awkwardly. "So I decided to come down for my examination."

Harry nodded. "Shall we get started? Remus is off-duty so I'll be accompanying you through the rest of your errands and back to your house."

He felt a small smile cross his face at her petulant look. "I made it here just _fine_ by myself."

"No you didn't," he said, unable to hide his smug grin. "You have a twenty-four hour guard. If both Remus and I are unavailable, then you at least have a rookie underneath an invisibility cloak."

He took the moment she lost control in pure rage to break into her mind. "_Legilimens."_

_A broom shed in the black of night. Six red-headed boys laughing; telling her she wasn't big or strong enough to play Quidditch with them. Wearing an ugly flowered apron. Burning the palm of her hand on the stove._

Ginny gasped, but couldn't block him out, and the memories shifted again.

_The innocuous black diary. The ink sprouting from the thick pages. The look in her father's face when she had finally gotten so afraid and had to confess the entire thing to her parents. Another brother – perhaps the oldest Weasley male – asking her how she could be so stupid._

The flood of memories was stilted. Harry needed a few minutes to get his bearings, but before he knew it he was pushed unceremoniously out of his office chair and onto the floor. He fell with a crash, banging his head on the desk leg.

"What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?" Ginny's voice was cold with rage. Harry's vision was momentarily clouded in pain, but once it cleared he saw Ginny standing over him, livid.

He rubbed the back of his head. "The process is easier if the patient is feeling a strong emotion at the time." He rose up to his knees, using the desk to hoist himself to his feet.

"Happiness, sadness, and anger all help open the mind to intrusions. I saw an opening, I took advantage of it."

"You had no right to barge in like that," she said, her teeth clenched. She looked pale and drawn; a bead of perspiration collected at her forehead. She looked so determined, so strong that Harry felt a trill of guilt hit him in the stomach.

"I'm leaving," she announced. "You get the rookie back on detail because I'm not playing your games anymore."

She stormed out of the office, leaving Harry feeling miserable, alone, and confused.

# # #

Ginny had a maddening headache. The back of her head throbbed as a direct result of Harry's invasion. She had never been so upset in her life. She couldn't fathom how Potter had thought that breaking into her mind without telling her would make the experience any easier. All it had done was made things that much worse.

She was so angry that she barreled out of the Ministry building. She didn't know whether or not the Ministry tail had caught up with her and honestly, she didn't care one way or the other. Harry Potter was just lucky he hadn't eaten Bat-Bogies for breakfast.

Now, Ginny wasn't sure what to do. The dress robes Draco had bought for her were still waiting for her at Madame Malkins – all she had to do was go and pick them up. It was a depressing prospect, picking out an outfit to please a boyfriend she didn't really even have.

"I can do this," she said aloud, willing herself to believe it. She was going to be at the ball tomorrow, and she was going to make it through this ordeal alive without the help of one Harry Potter.

She arrived back at the Burrow an hour or so later and showed no emotion when it was Remus who showed up to take over her guard instead of Potter. Auror Lupin had an exhausted look to him, but Ginny couldn't help but feel relieved that he had come instead of Potter. The thought that of all the memories he could have seen the Diary had been closest to the surface mortified her.

Over dinner she avoided her father's gaze, hearing his voice cold and hard like it had been that day.

_"I couldn't believe a Weasley would be so foolish," _he had said. _"And I didn't believe it…not until Professor Dumbledore told me it was true."_

She excused herself early, ignoring the look of worry crossing her mum's face.

# # #

Ginny woke to the sounds of two voices whispering into the darkness of her bedroom. She struggled against sleep for a moment, but managed to keep her breathing steady so she could listen.

"Remus, you have to go. She's at St. Mungo's right now, asking for you."

She could hear a deep sigh. "I'll never be able to make this up to her."

"It isn't over, yet. All you have to do is Apparate to the hospital now, and she won't even remember once the baby comes. Go now, and I'll get Donald to carry the morning shift, and I'll come visit the baby when Mungo's opens."

Ginny knew that voice. It was Harry Potter.

"Thanks so much, Harry. I'll tell Dora you send love."

"I do," Harry said quietly, after the discreet 'pop' of Lupin's Disapparation.

"You don't have to pretend you're asleep," he admonished, and she hears the brush of his back as he leaned against the wall to the left of her bedroom door. "This is your house, after all. I don't care what time you go to bed."

"If this is my house," she asked through gritted teeth. "Then _why _are you here?"

"This is my job," he said simply. "I'm not a butler, Weasley; you can't just fire me."

"I hate you."

By the tone of his voice, she knew he was smirking in the darkness. "That's the second time a woman has expressed her disdain for me in less than a week. I wonder if it's the new shampoo I'm using."

"I doubt anything could make you any more unattractive than you already are," she mumbled sullenly. It wasn't _her_ fault that Potter was so infuriatingly handsome, but she sure as hell wasn't going to tell _him_ that, especially after he had broken into her mind without warning her first.

"I sincerely apologize for earlier today," he said, and she imagined the way his smile slipped from his face in favor of a somber expression. "I don't come across people so readily opinionated while in my presence, and I handled your reservations very irresponsibly."

He sounded sincere, but she wasn't ready to give in just yet. "You aren't to speak of what you saw, to anyone. And I want someone else to check for blocks."

"I live to serve, Madam."


	6. Losing My Religion

He was twirling her deftly across the dance floor. His body, warm and solid underneath her fingertips, was smooth and graceful in its movements. It would have been a lovely night, if Ginny had ever been any good at pretending.

Unfortunately, she never picked up the skill.

She couldn't pretend to want a kiss from a stuttering Neville Longbottom when she was thirteen, and she couldn't pretend to want one from Draco right now.

Draco, owning her, the dance, and the entire Ministry, was wearing a set of silver robes that hurt when the eye focused on them. Ginny thought initially that she was seeing things – surely Draco wouldn't wear something with _glitter _on it – but she wasn't mistaken. He was wearing shiny, glittery robes.

The band stopped playing, and both clapped politely. The crowd around them obviously knew Malfoy well enough to refrain from interrupting him during the dancing. Ginny saw several young Ministry employees staring at Malfoy with something akin to lust in their eyes.

After all, how else do you get a good job at the Ministry of Magic? You need to make friends with the richest wizards around.

_That's why daddy was never promoted._

She tried to make a dash for the loo, but as soon as the next song began, Draco pulled her back into his firm grasp.

"Do you like my outfit?" he asked in a low voice.

"Very much."

"I don't really like it," he confessed, giving her a dazzling smile. "But mother – "

He was cut off by a presence standing next to them on the dance floor. Ginny nearly gasped for two reasons. One being the fact that she hadn't expected Harry to actually contact her during the ball, and the second was how utterly stunning the Auror looked. His shaggy black hair was curling faintly around his neck, his eyes were sparkling in a way she hadn't experienced before, and he was wearing impeccably tailored black robes. They clutched his chest like a damsel in distress, emphasizing his slim waist.

"Hello, Draco," said Harry. He held out a hand for Draco to shake, which obliged Malfoy to let go of the slightly desperate hold he had on Ginny's waist.

"Potter," Draco replied curtly.

"And who is this beautiful woman you're dancing with?" Harry asked, winking at Ginny. "She's a bit out of your league, don't you think, Draco?"

"I – I…. This is Ginny Weasley," he said a tinge of anger seeping into his voice. "My date for the evening. Ginevra, dear, this is Harry Potter, a very respected Auror."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Ginny said in a dull voice, going with her instinct to be as unfriendly to Harry as possible.

"May I cut in?"

Ginny gave a dry laugh. "Perhaps it's you who is out of his league, Potter."

This seemed to comfort Draco. He wrapped his arm around Ginny's shoulder.

"At least give me a chance to prove myself, Miss Ginevra," Harry beseeched, giving her such an appealing smile that she had to bite her bottom lip to keep from returning it with the most pathetic grin of her entire life.

"Only if you don't call me Ginevra."

He grinned. "Okay, Ginny," he held out his hand, which she took.

OoOoO

_What is that smell?_ Harry wondered. It was sweet and flowery and he feared the intoxication would never wear off. Surely this heavenly scent would not ever leave his head.

Ginny's hands were around his middle, hugging him firmly. He was at a loss of where to put his own – he felt almost like he did when he was fourteen and going to the Yule Ball with Cho. Fortunately, that time he had had to be Polyjuiced to even attend.

He felt awkward doing so, but he couldn't help himself. He put his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to his body. He rested his head on hers, and when he breathed in he knew immediately what the scent was.

"Did Malfoy give you any perfume this evening? You should know better than to wear anything he gifts you," he said sternly, trying to regain his composure.

She pulled back a little, arching an eyebrow at him. Laughing a little, she said, "No, this is just me. It's a shampoo my mum has made me special since I was five."

"Oh," he said, feeling foolish. Even if Malfoy had given her a love potion, it certainly wouldn't have made _Malfoy_ clumsy.

"So what was your purpose in asking me to dance?" she asked after a short while.

He tried valiantly to collect his wits. "You were frowning," he admonished.

"And you didn't think my seeing you would make me frown more?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "By no means are you an actress, but you need, for the sake of your life, to pull yourself together. Draco, no matter how much peroxide he uses on that hair of his, isn't an idiot. He'll notice if you don't seem as interested as you once were.

"I only have a little time left before I have to go. I wanted to speak with you before Remus and I leave."

"Where are you going?" Was he imagining the hint of worry in her voice?

"We finally have approval from Minister Shacklebolt to gain entry into Malfoy Manor. Some surveillance we've been doing on Draco led us to believe that he's been lying about more than just his aspirations of taking over the magical world."

"Meaning what?" she asked, looking deep into his eyes with her deep brown ones. He felt himself unusually drawn to her.

"We think Malfoy senior is still alive, hiding out in the dungeons of his house." He held his breath, having just given out classified information.

Ginny rested her cheek against his shoulder. "So Draco's trying to make his father the next Dark Lord?"

"That's what Remus thinks."

She raised her eyebrows. "You don't think so."

Harry frowned. No one read him this well. "No, I don't. I know Malfoy; I've studied his every move since his birth. It isn't his style. Lucius couldn't offer him second in command – it wouldn't be enough power for him. I think Draco is probably holding his father captive, trying to learn the ways Voldemort amassed so much power."

She didn't flinch at the name, and Harry found himself oddly proud.

"But surely he wouldn't – "

Harry shook his head. "Malfoys aren't Weasleys. Family loyalty means very little to them. If Draco thought he could honestly take over the Ministry and hold it, he would do anything to make it happen, including torturing his father."

"Perceptive, Potter, I'm impressed," a snide voice interjected. Harry's neck cracked as he whipped it around to face Malfoy, who was standing next to them. His pale face was flushed, his lip curled in hatred. He walked over, taking care to show Harry his wand, to Ginny, cupping her cheek in his left hand. "The Portkey activates in four seconds, Potter. If you want her to live you'll hang on for the ride."

Draco's threat came true – in seconds Harry, Ginny, and Malfoy were pulled by the navel into an abyss, and perhaps, death.

OoOoO

A/N: Sorry, it's been a while. I promise the next chapter will be up in a week or so, and that the next and final two chapters of The Best Friend will be up by the end of the weekend, if not late tonight.


	7. I know I know I know

"Don't hurt him!"

"SHUT UP! You betrayed me!"

"Be calm, Ginny, it's all going to be okay."

"Don't lie to her, Potter. You know what kind of trouble you're in here."

"I know more than you think, Malfoy."

"Isn't that a laugh? _I_ know more than _you _think!"

Ginny couldn't see a thing. They were in some sort of dungeon at the bottom of Malfoy Manor; that much she had ascertained by the genealogy charts pinned up on the walls – which she had seen in the brief moment Draco had lit his wand. Of course, there was also the muffled protests from another man in the room, who Ginny was almost positive was Draco's 'dead' father, Lucius Malfoy.

She struggled against a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her torso, but somehow she knew whose breath was tickling her ear before he spoke. "I'm going to get us out of this," Harry promised.

She struggled against a pair of arms wrapping themselves around her torso, but somehow she knew whose breath was tickling her ear before he spoke. "I'm going to get us out of this," Harry promised.

"I'm sure you regret leaving your wand at the front desk, eh, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.

Harry's voice was even when he replied. "You were watching me? I guess you've got it all figured out."

Draco filled the oil lamps mounted on the wall with fire, revealing his sneering face. "I was surprised when you let it go so easily, at a Ministry affair with a person you suspect of Dark Magic, no less."

Draco dug in his robes and pulled out another wand. "Holly and Phoenix feather is an interesting combination," he said. "But I suppose you are as stupid as you look."

Ginny didn't notice Harry's movement, until Draco was flat on his back, gasping for breath. His blonde hair was more disheveled than Ginny had ever seen it, his dress robes had flung open, scattering the floor with the grey glitter. There was a glint of madness in his grey eyes that she had not seen before that truly and completely frightened her. Never before had she looked upon Draco Malfoy as someone who could honestly hurt her or anyone else, even after Harry had come into her life to open her eyes. When she knew of Draco's discretions before she always looked on them in betrayal and anger, even a certain amount of fear, but of Draco's real personality, not the man who had so recently been holding her securely in his arms, not the persona.

"What?" Harry asked derisively, stepping in front of Ginny to put some space between her and Draco. "You never heard of the old fake wand trick? Tsk, tsk, Draco that's elementary self-defense. Never surrender your wand to anyone at anytime.

"Perhaps if you had been accepted into the Auror training program…"

Ginny wanted to tell Harry to back off, tell him that he was baiting an Acromantula – there was no point, Draco was naturally vicious. She was beginning to see the rage develop behind Draco's eyes, and she knew it was enough.

"Harry, can we just get out of here?" she asked pointedly, and succeeded in bringing Harry to his senses.

"Of course," he replied, not taking his eyes from the fallen Malfoy. With a jerk of his wand Draco was bound in tight cords. Harry surveyed the scattered glitter on the ground with distaste. "What do these do?" he asked Draco roughly, bringing the smaller man up to his knees and then shoving him back onto the ground almost immediately.

Draco scowled. "They lower inhibitions," he said, then turned his head to view Ginny, smirking. "I wasn't sure how deep she was in with you Aurors. Tonight was going to be my lucky night," he leered.

"How charming, Draco," she murmured, but couldn't help but look down at her robes. They were littered with the appliqué. "I suppose you have some on you too, Mr. Potter," she said.

Harry looked down, and then raised his palms, showing them to her. At least ten pieces of glitter were stuck – no, embedded – into the skin of his palms.

"Kryptonite," Harry said, sounded dazed.

"Krypta-what?" she asked, confused.

Harry shook his head and took his hands away from her. He looked back at Malfoy suspiciously. "The other guests didn't notice we were gone, did they?"

Malfoy laughed. "Of course not, Potter."

"You need to start talking," Harry commanded. "Tell me exactly what your scheme is."

"For what?" Malfoy sneered. "A reduced sentence?"

"Hell no, you're going away for as long as I or any other rational person is in the Auror department. But talking might make the interrogation process a lot easier."

Malfoy spit in Harry's direction. "You think you're so smart, Potter, but you aren't. You have no idea what I'm capable of, no matter how many Dark Lords you've defeated. But I _will _succeed where Lord Voldemort failed. Do you really think we're at Malfoy Manor? Or that the man bound and gagged over there is really my father? I am so much more, so much better than you can even fathom."

Ginny's eyes snapped back to 'Lucius.' It looked like Lucius, but then, Ginny was already very aware of what Polyjuice Potion could accomplish. At least it proved that Lucius Malfoy was still alive, which Harry and the other Aurors had already guessed. That did mean that Harry and Ginny weren't supposed to stay longer than an hour, not if Draco had planned for them to be incapacitated by the time his partner transformed back.

But if what Draco said was true, that meant that he had masterminded everything – that Harry and Ginny were supposed to be free. Maybe there was an ambush planned as well. Ginny had her wand – she never held much stock in leaving them at home and she didn't feel safe without it in its holster attached to her arm – but with just she and Harry there was no way they'd make it out alive. Draco was probably betting that Harry's stubbornness would keep them there long enough for someone on the outside to perform an Anti-Apparition Jinx over the place. She couldn't worry about that right now –

Getting splinched was not enough of a deterrent to keep her at Draco Malfoy's mercy.

"Harry," she said urgently, clutching his arm. "We have to get out of here right now."

He pulled away from her, eyes and wand still trained on Malfoy. "No! Give me some time and I'll beat the information out of the little creep!"

"That's exactly what he wants us to do! We've got to get out of here!"

They tugged back and forth, but Ginny would not release her hold on his forearm. "Mr. Potter, you are here to protect me and you're doing a shitty job of it!"

Apparently, this was enough to snap him out of his rage. "You're right," he said, steadily regaining his composure. "But you'd better watch yourself, Malfoy."

Draco's eyes were sparkling in amusement. "If I needed you to die right this minute, you'd be dead, Potter. Listen to the lady."

Harry and Ginny clasped hands, Harry Apparating them away, hearing the shrieks of Malfoy as Ginny's Bat Bogey Hex hit its mark.


	8. Love Potion No Nine

Ginny had half expected to Apparate to the garden of the Burrow, to see the anxious faces of her family and friends, who had undoubtedly realized she was missing by now. Fred and George would be juggling half-heartedly six apples in between them, and mum would be too worried to even scold them properly. Dad would be standing tall at the window, expression not betraying his sadness aside from the slight scrunch of his eyebrows. Ron would have his arms crossed over his body, no doubt missing his girlfriend terribly, as he always did in trying moments—Hermione's job made it harder for her to be around as often as she would wish.

But Harry didn't Apparate them to the Burrow. He didn't even Apparate them to the Ministry.

He took them directly inside of a moderately furnished home, which was dark and dusty with neglect. It felt very much like no one currently lived there—which made sense to Ginny, after all, a man as dangerous as Harry Potter _would _have a safe house readily available.

"Where are we?" she asked shakily, very aware of the fact that Harry's arms were somehow wrapped around her waist. Her eyes were locked on his chest; unable to meet his gaze for fear that she would do something stupid like cry or kiss him.

His deep voice rumbled, his chest rising under her gaze. "This is my parent's old house in Godric's Hollow. I don't really spend a lot of time here," he said. "There are a lot of… bad feelings surrounding this place."

She couldn't help but wonder if the jewels embedded in his hands were contributing to the loosening of his tongue. "When can we go back to the Burrow?" she asked, feeling a little bit useless for being unable to do anything but ask Harry questions. It seemed like she didn't have the answers as much lately as she used to.

Ginny had finally looked up from his chest, only to find he was looking at her with a strange intensity that she had never before seen on his face—unless of course it was when he had been dancing with her just earlier that evening. His emerald eyes were shining with something indescribable

He leaned over slightly, just enough to capture her lips with his.

Stunned at first, Ginny couldn't respond with anything more eloquent than a dropped jaw, which Harry must have taken for revulsion. He pulled away before she had even been able to process the kiss, but she knew one thing for certain—once it was over she knew she had not yet have enough.

"I-I'm sorry," he said, looking flustered. "That was—"

"Bloody brilliant," she gasped, and then pulled his head back down to greet hers. He sighed when their lips came back into contact, and she grinned into it before increasing the intensity—wanting to memorize the feel of his mouth on hers. Ginny hadn't been exaggerating when she had described it as 'bloody brilliant'—it was all that and more. As a kisser, Harry wasn't anything like how he was in everyday life. His lips didn't move in the cold, calculated way he had treated her to while acting as her guard. As an Auror Harry kept her at arms length, but now it felt like he couldn't get close enough to her.

"Bedroom," she breathed once he had broken away from her for air. Her upper arms rested on his shoulders, her hands stroking his hair. He nodded, hoisting her up so that her legs could wrap around his torso.

"Bedroom," he agreed, nodding.

Ginny was barely aware of Harry carrying her up a flight of stairs and through another door, so intent was she on attacking Harry's mouth with her own. Before she knew it she was tossed onto a bed, Harry following immediately afterward. His robes had been abandoned sometime during their trek upstairs, so he was wearing just his black trousers and white shirt, which was untucked, the first three buttons undone.

He smiled and pushed her robes off of her shoulders, helping her roll out of them and then threw them unceremoniously onto the floor across the room.

It was like being splashed with cold water as an early morning wake-up call. Ginny blinked, wondering why all of a sudden the world wasn't spinning. She was sitting up with Harry on his hands and knees, kissing her neck thoroughly.

"Harry," she protested, only to succumb once again to the mist when Harry's hands went up to cup her face in his hands. She couldn't remember why she had said his name in the first place.

"Ginny," he said hoarsely, kissing her again.

# # #

When Harry Potter woke up the world gave a congratulatory whirl.

_Bloody hell, what the happened last night?_ He remembered wanting to beat the pulp out of the sneering Draco Malfoy and Ginny clutching his arm, reasoning them out of a potentially fatal situation. A burst of pride hit him from out of nowhere—_she'd make a fair Auror._

His current situation was still a matter of speculation. The bed was warm and he felt oddly more relaxed than he had since…well, he hadn't felt as languid in a long time. Though he nearly always passed out face down in his robes after work, this time he knew he was as naked as the day he was born, and his body was curled around…

_What!_

Harry's eyes snapped open. He had been on duty last night, with Ginny at the Ministry ball—he couldn't be curled around a woman in bed because that would mean…

He groaned, looking over at the figure he was holding, noting it was soft and smelled like lilacs and had sleep tousled red hair. _Oh, Merlin, I've just shagged Ginny Weasley. And I can't remember a bloody minute of it!_

He raised an eyebrow at himself. Why did that last part seem like the biggest loss of all? _No,_ he told himself sternly._ There is no time for you to go off thinking you can…start something here. You made a mistake, obviously, and you had better just get out of this bed, put on some clothes, and handle this like a professional adult who does NOT fancy Ginny Weasley._

And he was firm in this decision at least, until Ginny turned in her sleep and burrowed her face in his chest smiling sleepily as her nose nuzzled the bend of his shoulder. Her breathing evened out and she fell back into a deeper slumber, still smiling contentedly.

Oh, who was he bloody kidding? He knew exactly what was going on—he had begun the slow drift from admiring the strength Ginny possessed, the way unlike anyone else he ever knew she had done nothing but confront the trials facing her with a brave face, to _fancying_ her bravery, her determination, her _Expelliarmus-_strength smile.

What was he going to do?

Harry knew the look that would appear on Remus' face, and he knew that Remus would be disappointed that Harry hadn't done a better job to keep his feelings a secret—or to not have them at all. That was also something he didn't understand. His feelings might have snuck up on him, but normally he wouldn't have let anything happen like it had last night.

Slowly, he turned his hands so that he could examine the palms. Remains of the sparkles from Malfoy's robes the night before were still stuck to his skin. He let out a breath, curling his hands into fists.


	9. Take Me Anywhere

"Everyone, please, be quiet. I have a lot of things to go over before we can let any of you leave the house, and I'm sure you'd like to get back to your lives as soon as possible," said Remus, his ever calm and reasonable self.

The Burrow was, and had been, in chaos since Remus and a small company of Aurors had stormed the house twelve hours before, looking for Ginny and Harry. They hadn't spoken a word to anyone in the house, no matter how Molly Weasley screeched, wanting to know her daughter's whereabouts—and they ended up having to stun an irate Ron who wouldn't sit down no matter how much the junior Auror in charge of the family's silence had roughed him up. As it was, Ron was now propped up against the wall frozen, and the same Auror was standing by to re-stun him every so often so that he didn't fall down and hurt himself.

Arthur looked to everyone in the family, finally securing everyone's silence, and then nodded apologetically at Lupin.

The Auror cleared his throat. "As you have already guessed, no one has seen nor heard anything from your daughter or Harry Potter since last night as they entered the Ministry ball. I can assure you that we are doing everything possible to find them."

He looked Arthur in the eye, and lowered his voice a notch. "I can't promise anything, Mr. Weasley, but know that I've fought with Harry almost his entire life, and I trust that wherever they are, Harry has your daughter tucked away from danger.

"This is still a Ministry case, isn't it?" Bill interrupted rudely. "Where does Harry Potter get off taking our sister away from us _and _the Ministry? Shouldn't he have taken her back to the Auror department if there was trouble?" He glared at Lupin, daring him to make an excuse.

"I quite agree," Percy said primly. "It seems that Mister Potter has little respect for the Ministry guidelines. I expect a full inquiry will be made to investigate his methods."

"Of course," Remus said, frowning. "I'm positive Mr. Potter will have no trouble submitting himself for a formal reprimand, especially if your _sister_ is still alive when he is found. I don't think I need to remind any of you who our enemy is at the moment, and he is _not_ Harry Potter."

# # #

Buggering bleeding hell.

Ginny's head felt worse than the morning after her seventeenth birthday—when the twins had taken it upon themselves to show their little sister a good time. And the only interpretation of a 'good time' in the twins' opinion was a bottle of firewhiskey each and a lot of Wheezes' fireworks.

She wasn't exactly nauseous, but her head was pounding every time the earth decided to spin, which, evidently, was often. She would throw up if she could just get everything to. Stay. Still. For. One. Second.

Opening her eyes was harder than she thought, but when she finally did, the smile that had suddenly possessed her face wouldn't dull because she was lying in bed with Harry Potter.

Or, perhaps she was just lying in bed with Harry. It seemed a more fitting title anyway; Harry was hardly anything extraordinary like this. _Well,_ she corrected with a smirk. _He's just the right amount and kind of extraordinary._ Ginny had never slept with a man before, and while the images were shaky, she knew that eventually everything would be clear to her. And it was nice, to be cocooned in the blankets with Harry's arm around her, one of his legs crossed over her body. Her face was pressed into his muscular chest and even though she didn't know what his favorite sweet from Honeydukes' was, or about his first kiss, or what he like to order at Chinese restaurants—she felt _comfortable_ there in his arms, in his bed, next to his naked body.

"I hope that we can talk before you get angry with me," said a sleepy voice, and it was so different from the one she normally heard that for a moment she wondered if there was someone else in the room with them.

"Why would I be upset?" she asked, now, of course, suspicious.

He shifted a little, propping himself up on one elbow, though his body was still very much wrapped around hers. "Well, if I remember correctly—which is still touch and go at this point, to be honest—we shagged each other very thoroughly last night."

She snorted. "Charming, Harry."

"What happened to Mr. Potter?" he wondered, the sides of his mouth lifting up.

"I touched your bum last night," she said, grinning. "In fact I touched—"

He covered her mouth with his hand. "Let's not go there," he admonished half-heartedly.

"What I _mean_ is that for the moment I don't see much reason for formality. At least not this minute," she finished thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" he asked, heart clenching.

She had said no formality this _minute_. Did that mean she was going to accept whatever _this_ was at face value? Were they going to leave Grimmauld Place and never speak of it again? Harry knew he was being childish, _girlish_ even, and he endeavored to stop it. What did it matter if Ginny Weasley didn't like him enough to pursue anything past this one night? It had all been a side effect of bleeding Malfoy's fairy dust anyway… But that meant that she had to have felt _something_ for him, didn't it?

He groaned, and ignored at Ginny who was looking at him curiously.

Harry Potter had been a finely tuned Auror until about twelve hours ago, when some idiot criminal had inadvertently given his love life a jump start. He hadn't felt this unsure about himself since he was fifteen. Here he was behaving as though he actually had some sort of feelings for this Ginevra Weasley—which he most certainly did _not._ Wait, did he?

"I take it this happened because of Draco's pixie dust," she said, nearly echoing his thoughts, which had become a little scattered as she begun unconsciously tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. "He's an idiot," she proclaimed. "Even if my inhibitions _had_ been lowered with him, all I would have done was kick him in the bollocks—not shagged him." The look on her face told him she thought the idea very repulsive.

"Yes, I assume it was made to be time-release. It didn't reach its full potency until just after we arrived here. If I'd known I would have _never_ brought us here alone," he said fervently. "And I was going to wake you when I figured it out, but…"

She tilted her head up to look at him, brow furrowed. "What?"

He glanced around, looking for anything to concentrate on beside her brown eyes. Unfortunately the next things he encountered were Ginny's breasts—not covered by the sheet because she was currently lifting herself so that she could look at his face.

"I fell asleep," he admitted sheepishly, looking into her eyes in defeat.

Ginny fixed him with such a stern gaze that he thought he maybe ought to leave the bed—as he was quite sure her threat involving her knee and Malfoy's bollocks hadn't been idle—but she didn't give him the chance. She pulled his head down so that his lips met hers and gave a little laugh. "You are so bloody adorable."


	10. The Way You Move

"_Got a flame in my heart, can't get my fill." – Led Zeppelin's Black Dog_

"We should get up and dress," Harry said, doing his best to sound formal, which was hard when you had a naked redhead strewn across your chest. He didn't mind in the least, which surprised him greatly. Usually he felt awkward when Cho had lain on top of him; like he wasn't supposed to breathe or move, but Ginny was entirely comfortable. _He_ was entirely comfortable with her. It was almost a relief that she hadn't done any of the things he had expected her to do when they woke up; like scream at him for abusing his position or being careless, or even just want to push everything under the rug and leave his parents old house as soon as humanly possible.

Ginny hadn't done any of those things. She had taken everything well, considering, and Harry didn't even think it was some side effect of the dust—she mostly was effected when she had clothes on or when he was touching her. Harry, on the other hand, probably had some of the stuff still in his system. If anything, he was the one still under the influence. And the thought didn't bother him as much as it probably should. He was always so high strung and inflexible, this infallible Auror, and it was sort of nice to take a break from being serious and just lay, enjoying the body of a girl he frankly was torn between admiring and fearing. He had gotten a glimpse of the hex she had hit Malfoy with—and it had looked painful.

Maybe he had been too hasty in categorizing Ginny when he first met her. He surely hadn't expected her to kick arse so thoroughly and had _definitely_ not expected her to be able to calm him down and see reason at the holding cell Malfoy had brought them to.

"I suppose," she answered, rolling away from him and setting her feet on the floor. "Everyone's probably going crazy, thinking Draco kidnapped us or something."

He watched her run a hand through her vibrant red hair, letting his eyes roam her naked back. "Remus knows I would have gotten us out alive," he said, trying his hardest to keep his voice the right octave.

She chuckled. "They probably had to restrain my mum and Bill, probably Ron," she snorted.

He had met her brother during the entire ordeal a few times, and it hadn't been all that pleasant. Ron giving the Aurors trouble didn't seem totally out of the realm of possibilities. Harry shuddered inwardly at the thought of all Ginny's brothers—one of which he hadn't even met yet, who apparently (Mrs. Weasley liked to talk _a lot_ while cooking breakfast) worked as a dragon handler in Romania. Harry might've defeated Voldemort—but six older brothers, one of whom was a curse breaker, was enough to make Harry want to kill Malfoy all over again for getting him in the situation.

Of course, if Malfoy hadn't, then there was no way Harry would be watching Ginny get up and stretch, totally unself-conscious about being nude in front of him.

Ginny saw him watching her and smirked. "I guess you aren't too peeved about last night."

"Honestly, I feel like I just got a birthday present I hadn't known to ask for," he said. He also didn't move his gaze from her body, but he could feel his cheeks darkening.

Apparently guessing he wasn't in any rush to get up, she flopped back down onto the bed, pulling the long since discarded sheet up and around her shoulders, hiding her body from his view. He almost protested, but closed his mouth at the last minute, not missing her eye roll.

"Should we talk about his?" she asked frankly. Her cheeks were still creamy, scattered with freckles; in no way did she look bashful or embarrassed.

"Er…yeah," he said awkwardly, picking at the linens.

"Look at me, Harry," she coaxed. Her eyes were sparkling with good humor, but she was oddly serious, more than he'd ever seen in her. Sure, he'd seen her furious, afraid, and playful, but not so solemn before. "I don't want this to be a thing where we shag and then neither of us can look the other in the eye again. And, with our situation, I don't think it's even possible."

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he nodded. "That wouldn't be productive, not if I want to keep you safe."

"I'm also wondering if this isn't better kept between us." She took her bottom lip in between her teeth, chewing on it absently. Her face was still serious, which he took to mean she didn't notice his fascination with her lips.

"I…er," he didn't quite know what to say.

She winced. "Not that…well, it's just my family is very protective of me, as you've probably noticed." She laughed softly at my controlled nod. "I don't think it would go over well, no matter how much we weren't ourselves when it happened."

"And I'm positive it would cause trouble with Remus," he said. No matter how competent Harry became, Remus would always have seniority, and had been a close friend of his parents before they had fallen to Voldemort. As a result, Harry respected Lupin more than anyone else in his life; he hated to disappoint him.

"So, we're not going to let anyone else in the loop…and we can talk about it more in depth when we get Draco his own cell in Azkaban?"

"It sounds like a plan," he said softly, putting on of his hands over hers. "Look, Ginny, I should warn you. I'm not the most…accessible person in the world. I mean," he said, scratching the top of his head. "You've seen me before. I can get like that all the time—I mean, it wasn't just because you were, are my responsibility. Sometimes I forget how to be warm." His cheeks reddened.

She chuckled. "I'm not exactly the type of woman who needs promises, not at this stage. You give me what you can and I'll give you what I can, and we'll see where it goes from there?"

"That sounds like a plan," he said, smiling.

# # #

Ginny hadn't been lying to Harry during their talk—she _didn't_ need, or really want, promises. It was enough that Harry hadn't said, "I live to serve" or something of equal stupidity since they had woken up. He was surprisingly emotionally available for a self-proclaimed introvert. She watched his face as he struggled to tell her what he was willing to give, and it strangely enough made her bite back a smile.

Truth be told, she wasn't sure if she was ready for a new relationship quite yet. Draco had completely humiliated her with his scheme, and though Harry was, well, _Harry, _it didn't make as much difference as she thought it would. She liked him, there was not doubt about that, but was physical attraction and a slight fancy enough to begin something more? Ginny didn't know what exactly she would even want, were they to come to some sort of an understanding. She did know that she didn't want to say _that_ word; she didn't even want to think it.

You know the word. (_Relationship.)_

First Michael, then Dean, and finally Draco—maybe she would do well to just…be by herself for a while.

Of course, her body was telling her to shut up and stop overanalyzing.

Ginny had finally had mercy on him and wrapped herself in a sheet and went into the master bathroom to change back into her clothes (some required extensive repairing charms). His eyes had traced her body long enough for him to lose interest in their conversation not long after it had begun, so she figured if she wasn't planning to keep him in bed all day, she may as well get herself together and ready to start explaining herself to her family and looking for Draco, the bastard.

What could they do? There had to be a link to Draco somewhere—they just h ad to know where to look. An idea came into her mind as she was shaking out her dress robes. She pulled them on hurriedly and tied her long hair back into a bun with a simple spell.

"Harry?" she called back into the bedroom.

"Yeah?" He came into view wearing an undershirt and a pair of trousers he must have kept here for emergencies. They were khaki and snug, leaving Ginny a little breathless. He didn't appear to notice her attentions, just struggled to button up his red Oxford, only giving her half of his attention.

"D'you think finding Draco's pixie dust would help us find where he's hiding?" she asked carefully.

He looked thoughtful, abandoning his shirt for a moment and leaving his hands hanging limply at his sides. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think I know two redheaded Weasley boys who could find out for us."

He rubbed the back of his neck with calloused fingers. "I can get people in the Auror department to track it down; you aren't necessarily a part of this investigation," he said very softly, almost as if he thought she wouldn't get mad if he whispered it. That shocked her—it took her brothers twenty years to understand fully the fire they were playing with when they pulled shit like this. Harry didn't know enough to completely avoid it yet, but he had definitely some appreciation for how truly dangerous a pissed off Ginevra Weasley could be.

"I didn't _ask_ for your protection, Harry. And I'm sorry if having you around has given you the impression that I'm _stupid_ because I am not a foolish little girl you have to clean up after. If I can help with the investigation, why shouldn't I?

"Besides," she said, rolling up the sleeves of her robes. "You have no idea who Draco has listening for him in the Ministry. He's been pretty cocky; I doubt he's working alone. He may be arrogant, but he's not completely stupid."

"Whether or not I think of you as a _hopeless female_ is hardly the issue," Harry replied coolly. "The fact remains that the Auror business is _my_ business. Your only job is to keep from making a mistake that will get you killed."

Her cheeks were red with anger. "Well, I think that point is moot. Draco has already found me out, thanks to our little dance last night."

"Oh, it's my fault! I apologize for being under the influence—that never would have happened otherwise," he cried indignantly.

"I don't believe we have time for this," she said calmly. It was too calm for his comfort; it seemed to signal she was much more upset than she let on. "We have to meet with my family and the Aurors so you can do your job."

"Ginny…" he pleaded.

"No," she held up her hand. "I can help put Draco away, and until you accept that I don't believe I have anything else to say to you."

She exited the bedroom.


	11. Lookin' Out My Back Door

It took Ginny four hours after she and Harry finally made it back to the Burrow, to get Fred and George alone.

Harry was proving to be just as annoying as he had been before their little rendezvous, so much so that her eyes were sore from rolling them so much. Mum had gone hysterical, demanding to know where they had been, but Remus had just looked at Harry with something akin to relief etched on his features.

For once, George's face did not convey mischief. He scowled at her.

"What were you thinking, Gin? Do you have any idea how worried we were? Thinking Malfoy had fucking taken you hostage some place!"

Fred laid a comforting hand on his brother's arm. "We love you, Ginny-bean. You should've sent a Patronus at the very least."

"Well, I didn't," she said, immediately regretting it when she saw the furious look on George's face. "I'm sorry," she said, backpedalling. "There's this crazy fairy dust shit that got us really caught up in the, er, moment."

"Fairy dust?" Fred enquired. "Like in a Muggle fairy tale?"

"What do you know about Muggle stories?" she asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes when George took a step behind Fred.

They were both silent, red in the ears—which was a sure fire Weasley sign of guilt.

"See the thing you have to know is—"

Seeing red, Ginny lunged at George, who raised his hands to protect himself from her raining fists. Fred doubled over laughing, which earned him a good kick in the shin, shutting him up immediately. She watched as her brothers' eyes spun around the room searching for exits. That was laughable; the only person who knew more about the Burrow than the twins was Molly. They were feeling too guilty about whatever they'd done to try to escape.

_These two gits are the reason I shagged Harry,_ she thought miserably. _They're lucky I don't start cutting off body parts._

"It's just in the elementary stages of testing, Gin, honestly. None of it has left WWW, I swear."

"Obviously some of it did, you bastards," she said, cuffing George on the back of the head once more, for good measure.

"You're going to tell me everything about it," she said, taking a seat on one of the worn armchairs of the sitting room. The two redheads looked at her apprehensively before sitting on the sofa across the room from her.

"We can't tell you much. It's still too early to talk about formula," Fred said regretfully.

"It's already out," Ginny said shortly. "I want a list of the people with access to it, who's expressed interest, and what the hell you were thinking when you began to manufacture it."

"I don't see how it's any of your—"

"Don't you dare say it's none of my business, Fred Weasley. Draco's got some of it—he used it on me, and through me, Harry."

"Yuck, you shagged Potter?" Fred looked like he'd just fallen headfirst into a pitcher of unsweetened lemonade.

She bolted up, attacking him with her hands once more. "You knew it could be used that way, you arsehole! Do you not realize how dangerous a product _reducing inhibitions_ could be in the hands of just _anyone_?"

"Ouch, stop! It wasn't supposed to be like that—that batch was preliminary. The focus shifted after the third or fourth," George defended. "It was simple experimentation."

"Who did you test it on?"

Fred's ears turned a brilliant shade of magenta. "It's none of your damn business."

"Like hell it isn't!" she shouted. "I was a victim of your little experiment, and Draco got away because of it."

"Don't blame us for Potter and Lupin's shoddy detective skills!" George piped up. "They shouldn't have you involved in the first place. You shouldn't have been close enough to Malfoy or _Potter_ for it to happen anyway!"

Ginny took in a deep breath, trying to contain her frustration. "I choose to shuck off the role of dependent female," she retorted. "But what I decide to do has nothing to do with either of you. What I need to know is how you made the dust, when you decided to redo it, and where you decided to dispose of it. Can you help me find Malfoy?"

George rubbed his eyes roughly. "How did you manage to come in contact with it?" he asked wearily.

"I had a dance with Draco at the ball," she answered. "His robes were covered in it."

"No, no," Fred said. "There's no way he got _that _much from anyone of our locations. It's all been stored in vials—just enough to test on Angie and me. He's got the formula—either he stole it from us and is having his minions mass produce it, or we aren't as original as we thought."

"What's the process like?"

"It certainly isn't easy. Took months to get fifty milliliters. Of course, we were constantly changing the formula."

"Any imported ingredients?"

"Dragon scales," Fred said. "Cost us more than we could sell 'em for, which was why the project's been discontinued. Any variation on the idea will need untreated hide. Even with Charlie's connections it cost a wand arm and a leg. It doesn't matter if you want to loosen people up without the annoying effects of alcohol—which was what we were doing by the way—or completely demolish their ability to make rational decisions, you'll need access to dragon hide. And if you want to accomplish the latter, you'll need a whole lot more than what we had to start with."

"Hey! Where're you going?" George yelled. But she was already halfway out of the Burrow, headed towards the Apparition point.

"Romania," she called back, pulling out her wand before she disappeared with a loud crack.

# # #

**A/N: Wow, there's really no excuse for being gone so long. I'll just say that school's been crazy the last few months, and that the idea for this story just one day popped right out of my head. But here's the next chapter, and I think I have a pretty good idea of where the next few are going to go. Thanks for all the support!**


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